


Confrontation

by unnecessarybeltbuckles



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, re-established relationship, temporary amnesia I guess, they're gonna be okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 13:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17643545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unnecessarybeltbuckles/pseuds/unnecessarybeltbuckles
Summary: Shinnok wakes up somewhere familiar.





	Confrontation

Slowly he awakes. Through a haze of warmth and soft sheets, his consciousness swims in a drunken fog for seeming strings of days, any attempt at grasping it sifting through his fingers. Finally, in a moment of murky clarity he finds his eyes open, and he manages to shake off the urge to shift beneath the silk sheets and drift off again. He pushes himself up on flushed limbs, hissing at the protest of his very sore body, and blinks in the faint light. 

The movement immediately sets a pounding in his head, that only exacerbates his confusion. Breathing deeply and rubbing at his face, he can’t remember a thing. _Where is he? Why is he here? Why was he asleep?_

Finding no answers in his mind, Shinnok focuses on his surroundings. It’s a modestly large bedroom, schemed in white, two large windows set in the wall the bed was headed against— curtained fully with beige drapes, with sunlight spilling out the edges. The source of the strange twilight atmosphere, which prevents him from discerning much else about the room. 

For the moment he gives up the endeavor to remember, since there seems to be nothing immediately concerning, and wriggles his limbs out of the tangles of sheets to perch on the edge. He’s dressed in a white, buttoned blouse and loose pants— fresh, clean, comfortable clothing. Then trailing back his clinging bangs he finds that, unexpectedly, his hair has been perfectly kept, brushed back, tied up…

He jolts. Fingers curling through the knot, he recognizes that style, the handiwork. His mind jarred, he inhales sharply and surveys the room again, then stands on aching legs to grip the curtains and cast them aside to the light. 

It’s a beautiful day outside, the sun shining high and clear in a blue sky. Such a rare sight for… here, but he knows exactly where he is.

This is Raiden’s bedroom. 

_Raiden…_ His confusion deepens tenfold. He and Raiden… His memory of this bedroom was etched thousands of years ago, and things had changed between them since… Yes? He... can’t remember. Brows furrowing, his fists clench the drapes in frustration. Something feels very wrong, prickling in the back of his mind, but it is still too obscure in the grogginess and pain. 

He glances at the mountains far below. He is alone. All is quiet and still. But something must have happened. He sees that the door is open, but he’d dare not try to cross it… Was he being held prisoner? That thought stirs his brain, the pounding in his head quickens, but it gives him no answers. 

A glimmer catches his attention— a mirror hung on the opposite wall, reflecting the sunlight. Unknowing of what to do and curious, with a bit of dread, he tests his unsteady legs to approach it. He looks up to his image hesitantly; there’s shadows of a deep bruise over his right eye, a number of faded marks scouring down his arms and chest, various other small nicks and bruises, but otherwise he looks… taken care of. Rested. The gauntness of his face is softened, there is a tinge of color to his lips, his eyes are clear. He traces his fingertips over the edges, starting to recollect the memory of what had been, but he can’t remember how...

The Thunder God’s presence hits him suddenly and bluntly, a pulse in the aether. He gasps and whirls around to see Raiden leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and face obscured by his rice hat, silent and unmoving. Shinnok’s nerves bristle with panic. What should he do? Be defiant, be angry, get to his knees, prepare to defend himself? He steps back and curls his hand to draw from— nothing. Nothing. His magic is gone. He stares at his twitching fingers, realizes, _remembers_ the emptiness in his veins. Yes, his magic had been stripped from him in the aftermath of the invasion, before… 

Shinnok catches a just glimpses of Raiden’s gentle, sad smile before his legs falter beneath him. He catches the bedrail, stumbles to settle heavily on the bed’s edge, breath struggling as finally the fog clears… Everything comes back. Raiden’s fall. The Jinsei. Losing his mind to the One Being. The failed invasions, the rule of Netherrealm, even so far back to his betrayal for Earthrealm… 

It crushes him. Over a few moments his shoulders bow to the weight in his chest, his head buries into his hands with clenching fingers.   
_He nearly killed Raiden. He nearly killed himself, nearly brought on the end of the entire Universe in the attempt… How had it come to this? How could he have let it happen, after all he promised?_ Dread wrenches deep in his heart. He feels as if he’s been asleep for thousands of years, that some malicious, harrowed stranger had overtaken his body, he feels—

The dip in the bed beside him had escaped his notice, but the hand on his shoulder makes him jump. He flinches and stiffens, until it only squeezes softly and soothes down his silken sleeves. 

“Shinnok.”  
Gently his arms are tugged. Taking a deep inhale, swallowing, he allows his hands to be drawn away—his palms are wet, he frowns and sniffs sharply. His blurred gaze remains locked to the sunlit floor while Raiden’s warm hands trails down to hold his forearm, and there they remain for some minutes. Raiden’s presence is profound beside him, a constant in the Universe, a fixation of patience that slowly drains the flood of emotions into something… at least manageable. 

Finally he speaks.  
“It feels like a dream,” he mutters hoarsely. Raiden’s grip pulses. “A very long, very bad dream.”

“It was not,” Raiden replies lowly. There is a gravity to his voice that stings more than Shinnok can admit. Shinnok knows— he knows he can’t while this away with sarcasm and feigned apathy, pretend to have no responsibility in his circumstances or for the destruction he wrought, puppeteered or not. And there is so, so much to resolve just between them. They won’t recover from this unscathed… if they recover at all. If there’s anything left to salvage. 

Yet, everything has changed. Shinnok has realized by now, the fading ache in his head was the absence of the One Being’s mad whispers— Raiden could surely feel it as well, leaving him unrestrained and unguarded. And Raiden’s guilt for what has passed, his fall and what he’d done to his once-lover, hangs evident in his touch; as does his sympathy and, most vitaly, his empathy. The bitterness between them is gone. The rage, the madness spent, Shinnok feels only unfathomable remorse. And Raiden, as always, speaks through his actions. The fact he had been tenderly taken care of, dressed and kept and laid to his bed… and still now, Raiden, so cautiously, patiently, raises his hands to thumb away spilling tears, and tilts his face up to meet his eyes with understanding. 

Not all was forgiven, it might never be. He didn’t deserve it. But they’re both tired. They’re tired of being apart. Finally, after so many years of grief and regret and longing, they’re together again, and the foundation of their relationship had been shattered to such dust that it was practically a clean slate, built upon thousands of years of sediment. Maybe, for now, that was enough to start again.

**Author's Note:**

> Eyyy, I wrote this late into the night while sick so I hope it's comprehensible :,D  
> This is based on some ramblings I gave to judgementfist, she requested that I try to put it into a fic. It's supposed to take place after MK11, but it's Feb 2019 so uh, god knows how that's going to turn out. If it doesn't fit, just call it an AU. 
> 
> Check me out on tumblr @ unnecessarybeltbuckles!


End file.
